


No working title oops

by thelakeviewterrace



Category: Chevalier: Le Chevalier D'Eon
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 16:55:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18014735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelakeviewterrace/pseuds/thelakeviewterrace
Summary: The very teensy weensy beginning of an aspirational epic AU that isn't really written yet in which magic things happen and Durand might not be dead. Extremely gay, extremely dramatic, and genderfluid. Shamelessly inspired by another marvelous fic that's linked below.





	No working title oops

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Je t'embrasserais](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1635797) by Michelle Christian [archived by [yuletide_archivist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist)]. 



Three months after the day that in destroying the tattered remains of my life, gave me boundless, painful freedom, I find that Paris no longer holds a place for me. For three months, I carved out a meager existence, and for three months I waited for a sign from God. God has yet to answer me, but Mary, former Queen of England, replies to my message a mere week after I send it.  
The keeper of the establishment that may have once constituted an inn, and now serves as a rundown excuse for one, gruffly stops me when I return. I spent the day "researching-" truly, wandering the city with no cause, no aim, and nothing to show for any of my efforts. I have not found Robin, and I am beginning to lose hope. Broglie's men seek me still, and the city grows increasingly difficult for me to traverse.  
I take the folded paper from him, give him a curt thank you, and immediately return to my room to examine it. I lock my door behind me- the only amenity this place has to offer- and pace while I read. The letter is not marked with her name, though I know it is her, for the name is that of her trusted maid, and the one she instructed me to contact last I saw her. Mary opens with her delight at having received word from myself, and expresses concern for my health and safety. In response to my request that she take audience with me, she makes her joy known.  
"You are forever welcome at any home of mine, dear friend," she writes. "George and I will usher you in with open arms. Please come immediately!"  
Despite myself, this brings a smile to my face, an expression that feels almost alien after so long. Then, just as quickly as my smile appeared, it fades and I furrow my brows at the words that follow.  
"d'Eon," Mary continues. I can imagine the softness of her voice. "I delighted in the prospect of your visit, and am all the more troubled to divulge this information for it. It is auspicious that you would write me now, for recent events in the city of London concern you directly. I received word from the protectors at Durand's resting place that he has been disturbed. I know this must be deeply distressing for you, as he was your friend and companion, and I am deeply sorry that I have little else to tell you. I have instructed the clergy at the church to keep a close eye, and to report anything unusual to myself. I am doing all that I can, dear d'Eon, rest assured. Still, I believe it would be best if you came here yourself- if only so that I can offer you protection. Please," she finishes, "Send word of your departure and I will be sure to meet you upon your arrival. Your friend always, Mary Katherine."  
I read the letter again, furiously searching for any new information, though the words remain as they are, and I am none the wiser. I toss the letter onto the bed and pace.  
It seems I have no choice but to go. I fully intended to bring Durand home, but I lacked the resources to do as such yet, and, shamefully, so absorbed was I in my search for Robin, that the task had fallen to the back of my mind. Now, the two have crossed paths again. I suspect Robin's hand in these events. Or Lorenza, or that man with her. I formulate my plan. I have just enough money to buy passage across the channel, though I first require transportation to Le Havre. For that, I may be able to pawn the silver ring of my uncle's- the last piece of finery I salvaged from my former home following my escape from Versailles. First, I must write to Mary. I cross to my bag and pull from it the paper, pen, and inkwell I secreted there. I use the nightstand for my writing desk, and quickly begin my reply. I inform her that I will arrive within the week, though that is a optimistic estimate. I thank her for her hospitality and information, and thank her again for her care of Durand.  
My hand stays and an ink blot forms at the end of his name, obscuring the tail of the 'd'. I quickly remove my pen. Durand...It seems that I have yet to grieve for him, and the parts of me that are more d'Eon resist it still, even while the voice that is Lia yearns to ease our burdens. Tears prick at my eyes and I blink them away. I hastily finish my letter and fish for my sealing wax. My hands shake as I light the candle. In truth, I do not grieve for fear that my sorrows would drown me entirely. I have no heart for it, no strength of self, and no time for it amidst my surviving. Instead, I seek Robin, the only one who remembers, the only companion I have left. In him I seek atonement as well, that I might right my wrongdoings and do right by him, and by him, all the others I failed.  
I place both letters, one sealed with my hopes and fears, and the other open and looming, on the nightstand and put my writing tools away. I have naught but to sleep now, so that I can meet the day with the strength I need to take on this quest.  
As I kneel that night, before I sleep, as I have every night these three months, I pray for forgiveness as always, for wisdom, and for the truth to be revealed to me. I know better than to ask for success. I pray not so much for myself, or for God, but for Anna. She, I know, is in heaven, for a soul so sweet could not be elsewhere, and it is my only wish that I might see her again, to make her proud, and so I cleanse my soul so that I might join her. I pray too, for Lia, so that when my time on this earth is ended, that she may get the reward she at long last deserves. The last I pray for this time, is Durand's peace. I know it myself that he entered heaven, and yet I know too that no soul can truly rest easy with earthly disturbances.  
"Amen," I murmur, and cross myself. I fall asleep to the distant memory of Durand's smile.


End file.
